


like you, like me, like everybody else

by owlvsdove



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Jemma Simmons and Lance Hunter become weird brother/sister types.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like you, like me, like everybody else

 

“So you’re the reason Bobbi’s here,” a voice says in the doorway.

Jemma turns, sizes him up. “Technically it’s my fault her cover was blown, yes. But also technically it’s Coulson’s fault _my_ cover was blown. So you can choose who to blame.”

“Lance Hunter,” he says, swaggering up to her.

“Jemma Simmons.”

“I almost shot you, Jemma Simmons,” he says. He starts to fix himself a drink.

“Oh?”

“I was on the boat, the HYDRA boat. But May realized it was you talking to the kid and shot me before I could shoot you.”

She grins fondly.

“Why are you smiling? I just told you I was shot. Not a good first impression, Jemma Simmons.”

“You’re fine now, aren’t you?”

He slides his drink over to her and pours another.

They sit.

 

 

 

 

“Why am I here, exactly?” Lance asks. He’s in his training clothes on May’s request. Which is surprising in itself.

“Simmons needs a sparring partner.”

“Ah, so you came to the best. Good choice, May.”

“No, actually, she said you would be the easiest to beat,” Jemma pipes up. “I’m planning to work my way through the men of SHIELD until I’m good enough for Bobbi and May.”

Lance stares for at her for a full ten seconds. “There’s so much in that sentence that I want to talk about, but--”

“Quiet, both of you,” May says.

Jemma’s a fast learner. Lance isn’t really built as a teaching tool, wouldn’t know how to be one if someone really asked. So his hits count. She finds this out the hard way.

Lance has no interest in sparing her pain.

She likes knowing that upfront.

 

 

 

 

“So what’s with you and the little guy?”

She doesn’t have to ask who he’s referring to. “ _You’re_ calling him ‘the little guy?’” She says. “ _You_?”

He shrugs. “That’s what Mack calls him.”

“That’s because Mack is literally the Big Friendly Giant.”

“Stop deflecting. What’s the deal?”

She deflects some more. “Perhaps our burgeoning friendship is a bad idea.”

“Hey, friends ask each other the important questions.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” she mutters, and that’s the end of that.

 

 

 

 

There’s a violet bruise spanning her cheek.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Skye asks. Most of the team looks up.

“May has me sparring with Lance.”

Fitz whips his head around to look at him, which Jemma tries to ignore. She enters further to sit next to Skye on the couch, and Skye pats her hair, noisily kissing her cheek a few times to make a point.

“You know you’re supposed to pull your punches,” Trip says protectively.

Lance throws his hands up in defense. “May didn’t have a problem with it,” he says. “Besides, does no one care what she did to me?” He gestures to the cut on his temple and the dark bruise on his shoulder.

“I honestly didn’t notice a difference,” Mack says.

“Yeah, you always look roughed up,” Skye agrees. “It’s like your aesthetic.”

“That’s just rude, you lot. I was just doing my part in educating the poor girl about how the real world works.”

“Call me _poor girl_ again and I’ll give you another bruise to match,” Jemma says. She’s only partway joking.

 

 

 

 

“Really, though. What’s the deal with you and Fitz?”

She looks up, sighing. “You’re not a complete idiot,” she begins.

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for the caveat. “Okay...”

“So I would think by context clues you would know I’m not interested in being attacked over this.”

His eyebrows raise. “I’m not trying to attack you. I just want to know the story.” He watches. She’s become very still. “Who’s attacking you?”

“No one,” she says. He doesn’t believe her, obviously. “Fitz and I have a very long history. We’ve been each other’s for a long time. But some things happened, and now we just need to be apart for a while.”

“You think things will get better?”

“They have to.”

“Sounds like me and Bobbi.”

Jemma rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing like you and Bobbi, Lance, jesus. By the way, since we’re airing things out, you should know I think you’re a bit of a shithead towards her.”

He gapes.

May is walking by, so he calls out to her: “May! Simmons just called me a shithead!”

“I really doubt that,” she says without stopping.

He sighs, takes a drink, returning to their previous conversation. “Bobbi and I also have a long history.”

“Fair enough. But you were married.”

“You and Fitz were--?”

“Friends.” It’s not an adequate term, but it’s what’s on her tongue.

“I could see how that might be worse,” he says, taking a drink. That’s a charitable notion from him, considering Jemma’s fairly sure his entire world revolves around Bobbi’s sun.

“If it’s just a row,” he continues, “you’ll get through it.” He shrugs.

“It’s worse than just a row,” she says gravely.

“Wait!” he says, realizing. “You’re the girl!”

“What?”

“He said there was a girl he liked who left -- that’s you!”

She stares at him in disbelief. “I take it back.”

“Take what back?”

“You _are_ a complete idiot.”

“Okay, so you don’t like him back. That’s fine. That’s not earth-shattering.”

“It is too. And I didn’t say I don’t like him back.”

“So you do like him?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“Okay, women in general just--”

“ _Stop._ If you value your life you will not finish what I imagine was going to be quite a misogynistic sentence.”

He shuts up.

“What I’m saying is,” she finishes, “I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about anything anymore. All I know is SHIELD is my home, and I’m not leaving just because everyone thinks I’m bad for Fitz. Just because _I_ think I’m bad for Fitz.”

They’re silent for a long moment.

“It’s not a _great_ situation,” he says.

“I’m so glad I’ve come to _you_ with this, really,” she says, dripping a sarcasm that feels unfitting for her sugared mouth.

“Alright, alright. Clearly I’m not good at life either.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m great at life. I’m literally a beautiful genius. What are you? You’re just some guy.” She’s getting a bit drunk.

He smiles. “How can you be so rude and so sweet in the same breath without choking?”

“It’s one of my many gifts.”

 

 

 

 

“Please tell me you’re not trying to sleep with Simmons.”

Lance jumps. Skye just came out of nowhere. May’s influence, he assumes.

“No, of course not.”

“I will destroy you.”

“What in the bloody--”

“Simmons is my best friend in the entire world, and she’s going through a lot of shit right now.”

“I’m not trying to sleep with her, Spanish Inquisition. She just reminds me of a girl back home.”

“A girl? What girl?”

“No, no. It’s an expression. She’s an English bird, that’s all. We’re bonding.”

She believes him. Mostly because she never thought for a moment that he actually was trying to sleep with her. He’s too hung up elsewhere.

“She had a brother like you once,” Skye says seriously.

Lance only knows what she’s talking about because it’s the same expression she always has when she talks about Ward.

“I’m not going to push her out of a bloody airplane.”

Skye struggles for a moment. “I know.”

“I’m not like him.”

“I know.”

“This team takes the family dynamic a little too seriously.”

Skye shrugs. “We don’t really have a choice.”

 

 

 

 

He’s panting. She’s just punched him directly in the face, so they’re taking a breather.

“You have a lot of aggression, Jemma Simmons.”

“And you have quite a mouth on you.”

“It’s a good thing we like each other, otherwise we’d never be friends.”

“I never said I liked you.”

He shoves her.

 

 

 

 

“You like football?”

He’s leaning up against her lab table, taking up most of the room like a needy cat.

“It’s alright, I suppose.”

“ _Alright_ ,” he says. “You were raised in the Queen’s England, yes?”

She rolls her eyes. “My dad watched it occasionally, but I often had more important things to do.”

“What about your brother?”

“I don’t have a brother.”

“Then you’ve missed out on something very important, Jemma Simmons.” He says it quite earnestly.

Her response is glib: “I doubt it.”

“Watch the game with me tomorrow.”

“With you and Mack?”

Mack doesn’t look up. Fitz does.

“Mack’s busy. Come on, be one of the lads. Drink. Cheer. Be Merry.”

She looks him over very carefully.

“Alright.”

He claps once, standing up straight, like he’s excited. She raises an eyebrow.

“This is going to be our thing, Jemma Simmons. You and me.”

“And everyone else.”

“You and me!”

“What’s he on about?”

“He’s excited to have a proper Brit,” Mack says.

“She’s not a proper Brit,” Lance corrects, and he continues before Jemma can raise hell: “Because she doesn’t watch football. But she can be, with my guidance.”

“You’re ridiculous.” But she lets him be excited.

 

 

 

 

“Fulham vs. Reading?” Jemma says, staring at the screen. “Who even cares?”

“ _Every game_ is important, Jemma.”

“To you, maybe.” She nudges him over on the couch, elbowing for more room.

“Right, okay, so here’s how it works--”

“Mmm, no. Don’t care. Let me drink in peace, Lance Hunter.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Who do you want to win?” she asks after a minute.

“Fulham.”

“I’ll go for Reading then.”

“ _Rude_.”

 

 

 

 

A few hours later, and they’re still sitting on the couch. His eyes are riveted to the screen, so she says something.

“I’ve decided you can stay.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “We’ve already been sitting here for hours, how long does--”

“No, I mean on the team.”

Lance stares for a moment, looking affronted. “ _You_ don’t decide if I stay on the team. I do. Or, Coulson does. But really, _I_ do!”

She shrugs, and she does it in a slow deliberate that’s meant to terrify him. It works.

“You’re incredible.”

“And you’re a bit of an idiot. But you can stay.”

May is passing by the lounge, so Lance calls out: “May! Is Jemma allowed to kick me off the team?”

Immediately back: “Yes.”

She gloats. He ignores her. It’s their thing.

 

 


End file.
